When It Rains
by sexy-biker-voice
Summary: After Edward left, Bella was kidnapped and tortured. Fortunately Alice saw her. Unfortunately, it was a year after she was taken. There might not be a Bella left to save. Warning: abuse of all kinds, OC, OOC Bella  For good reason  No Jacob. M to be safe.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Once upon a time, a couple of years ago, there was an author that went by the same name as me. Coincidentally, that same author wrote a fic called When It Rains. It was completed and reviewed by many lovely people who said many a kind thing. Unfortunately that author came back and read her own fic and decided that she thought it sucked. So she deleted it off and gave permission to her older self (that's me!) to rewrite the entire thing and try to fix the many flaws within the original. So here I am, rewriting When It Rains, in the hope that it will be better. Because I've grown more, become a better writer and would like to turn my old story into a new and better one. I hope all the old fans read the new When It Rains and still enjoy it as much as they did the original. The End.**

**Disclaimer: Read well because this is the only disclaimer I'll write until the last chapter. The Twilight Saga and all the characters within belong to STEPHENIE MEYER and not me. It will never belong to me. When It Rains is simply for my personal enjoyment and my reader's, I will not be making any money from it. **

**That said, ENJOY!**

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><p><strong>WHEN IT RAINS<strong>

**PROLOGUE**

B-POV

_"You ... don't ... want me?"_

_"No."_

And then there was the emptiness; endless lines of trees stretching everywhere I looked and nothing but silence in every direction. He had left me there, alone, with nothing left for me to fight for. I screamed.

The sound of my own voice woke me from the nightmare that had been repeating every night since _he'd _left months ago. I shuddered and rolled over to check the time. It was ten in the morning; Charlie would have gone fishing, so I had a few hours to spare before he came back to check if I was still at least functioning. And I _was_ functioning, to the best of my ability.

"_Take care of yourself" _he'd said. For Charlie.

I was doing my best. However, living with a gaping hole in one's chest was a near impossible task. I couldn't smile; I couldn't laugh; I couldn't look anyone in the eye without seeing their pity. But I still tried. I got up every morning, I went to school, I hung out with 'friends' when Charlie begged me to, and I continued with house chores; knowing Charlie wouldn't – couldn't – do them himself. I had to take care of him, and myself...apparently.

A sharp pang of loss stabbed its way through me and I sighed; my own thoughts were out to get me.

Needing to escape, I dragged my way through my morning rituals before heading outside. It was time I returned to the place where it all ended. Who knew, maybe I could get some closure.

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><p>The pain was incapacitating. It was so much worse than my dreams. The reality of how alone I was seemed to be written on every tree, whispering along every breeze that chilled through my body. He was gone, <em>they<em> were all gone. I swallowed down a sob and backed away from the scene of my abandonment. I didn't want to be there anymore. It had been a mistake to come, a huge, foolish mistake. It was such a _Bella_ thing to do.

Typically it began to rain, yet another vicious reminder of that day. I could still remember vividly; curling up on the wet muddy ground as rain fell down on and around me; like I was going to literally drown in my sorrow.

I shook my head to clear both the memory and the thick despair threatening to choke me and began the long walk back. Charlie was going to be so worried. It was incredibly selfish of me to just leave without even a note to say where I was going. Yet another _Bella_ thing to do. No wonder he'd left.

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><p>The lights were off when I finally arrived back home and I wondered at it. It was Charlie's day off so he wouldn't be at work and he usually waited for me to get home before going anywhere else. Because unlike me, Charlie actually gave some thought for others.<p>

The sound of my key in the lock seemed unnaturally loud against the ominous quiet surrounding the house and I shivered, suddenly nervous.

"Dad?" I called, "are you home?"

I frowned at the silence that answered me and turned on the light. The illumination revealed Charlie sitting in the sofa, wide blank eyes staring unseeingly ahead. Blood that had long since dried lay in a crimson river from a slash in his throat.

"No," I whispered, horrified. "Dad? _No_!"

I ran to his side and shook his shoulders, hoping against hope that he was still alive. Tears ran uselessly down my face as I clutched my father's arm and yanked at it, only to watch as he flopped lifelessly back into the chair.

With fumbling hands I reached for the phone to call the remaining two police.

_Oh God..._Charlie. I could barely think coherently; racked with anguish and an all consuming grief. _My father is dead. _

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

My wrist was grasped in a tight grip and I cried out, icy terror filling me. I tried to yank my arm back only to be pulled against a hard chest. He bent my arm up behind my back and then pressed something sharp into my throat. It was probably the same knife he'd used to kill Charlie.

_Oh _God_...Charlie._

Gathering the minimum self defence training I had along with my limited supply of courage, I swung my elbow back into his stomach, stamped on his foot and ducked away from him, screaming all the while.

"You little _hell cat!_"

That was the only warning I got before he clouted me across the face, knocking me to the floor.

The world spun around me as I tried, weakly, to regain my feet. I was yanked up by his fist in my hair and his other arm wrapped around my throat, tightening until I could barely breathe.

_He is going to kill me_, I acknowledged weakly.

I was never going to graduate, or have even a _chance_ to see _them_. The shock and grief was replaced by acceptance. I wasn't afraid to die. There was no point in fearing the inevitable.

"Good girl." His breath was hot in my ear. "I like it when you're nice and quiet."

I swallowed thickly and blinked back tears. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of more crying. Charlie would have wanted me to stay strong. And suddenly I didn't want to just _let_ him kill me. I had to keep fighting, and if I couldn't do it physically, I would do it verbally.

"You won't get away with this." I could only murmur, with the weight of his arm pressed so tightly at my throat. "Edward," the name burned, "my boy – my boyfriend is coming over soon. He'll see you, he'll catch you."

"Will he now? Well then, I guess it's time to go."

With that he tightened his grip on my hair and yanked me towards the door.

"Go?" I repeated weakly. "You're not going to kill me?"

His chilling laugh sent goose flesh crawling down my spine.

"Oh no, my sweet. You're coming home with me."

I blinked, sure I'd heard differently to what he'd said. The man had broken into my home, murdered my father and held a knife to my throat; he couldn't have said he was taking me back with him. That was just...crazy.

"I have a nice little place," he murmured silkily even as he pulled me outside. "It's in a secluded area so we'll be alone together...and no one will come and take you away from me."

"I don't want to go with you." I tried to speak bravely; instead I ended up whispering with a shiver of fear breaking my sentence through the middle.

Immediately his eyes hardened in two chips of blue ice. My terror increased tenfold and I flinched, waiting for either the knife or his fist. Instead I got his rough calloused hand cupping my cheek with an impossible gentleness.

"That's okay my love. It takes time to get used to one another. Hell, I haven't even introduced myself! You must think me so rude." He smiled, his chapped lips pulling back to reveal crooked yellowing teeth. "I'm Ethan. And I'm very pleased to have met you face to face. I've been...admiring you from afar."

Disgust roiled within me. Insane was a correct presumption, he was _insane._ How long had he been planning to murder my father and kidnap me?

"And I don't need to know your name," Ethan continued talking with the same disturbing smile on his face, seemingly oblivious to my horror. "Because we're changing it to Krystal. Krystal's a much better name than _Isabella._"

He'd taken my father, he was about to take me away from home, and he was taking away my identity. I quite literally had nothing left.

Something broke inside of me then and I went limp; accepting it as Ethan dragged me outside to his car and then used some rope to tie my wrists behind me and onto the car door.

I watched numbly as he brought an oil can from who knew where and emptied it in and around Charlie's house. I barely blinked as Ethan lit a match and sent what was once my home up in flames. I didn't even flinch as unbearable heat radiated over to me from the fire rapidly eating at the wood. Perhaps I was in shock.

Ethan moved fast after that; shoving me in the car, roughly pulling a seat belt around my waist before running around and getting in the driver's side.

His gleeful laughter rang in my ears as he drove us away. Distant sounds of fire alarms echoed behind us as we left Forks and everything that once was Isabella Marie Swan behind.

I never said goodbye. There didn't seem to be a point.

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><p><strong>AN: So there's the prologue and as you can see it's changed a bit from the original. It will be like that all the way through the rest of the fic. Hopefully my original fans won't mind that too much. Personally, I think it's an improvement. Let me know what you'll think, I'll appreciate it muchly!**

**Anyway, I'll be upgrading rather infrequently as I've just started a new job that will be taking up a lot of my time. So please don't be upset if it takes a while for the chapters to show up, I promise that the wait won't extend more than a month. **


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Update in under a week, that's pretty good if I don't say so myself. **

**Well basically I want to warn both my old readers and my new ones. The end scene in this chapter is pretty dark. It's not explicit but it's definitely an obvious rape scene. I don't want anyone 'walking in blind' per say. Anyway, on-wards.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

Ethan was right when he said his house was in the middle of nowhere.

He had driven for over an hour out of Forks, and I had seen one other building – an old broken down factory that no one used. The 'driveway' that lead to his place was just dirt that had once upon a time been grass that had been worn down after being driven over so many times.

I had thought that I could play submissive to Ethan's complete insanity and then perhaps I could escape from him, and run...somewhere. But upon seeing where I was, finding my way to back to civilization was next to impossible. However; running aimlessly across the country still seemed preferable to living with the man who murdered my father. I would rather I fell into a ditch somewhere and starved to death than stay with Ethan.

Thus decided, I sat passively as Ethan chatted away happily pulling me alongside him with a death grip on my arm.

"Being a landscaper, I'll have more than enough money to support us. So you don't need to worry about that." Ethan ruffled my hair affectionately.

I resisted a shudder and managed a shaky nod, all the while planning how I was going to get away from him.

At last he had reached the house. He fumbled awkwardly with his left hand in his pocket for a moment to fit his key in the lock and then the door was open and I could see what my intended imprisonment looked like.

"Welcome home Krystal!"

He was like an excited child. A sadistic, overgrown, horrifying and dangerous child excited to show his toy around his place.

I went along with it as he showed me the kitchen, with a sink full of empty beer bottles, that joined into the living room with a small television in the corner and the bathroom that had a toilet, shower and sink in one room. He then brought me to a room that I immediately noticed had a lock on the _outside_ of the door; quite literally, a prison. He really had been planning to steal me away for a long time. What else had he planned for me?

"This is where you'll be staying!"

The cage - slash - room was almost empty; no chest of drawers, no wardrobe, not even a window. There was a single bed in the corner, completely bereft of anything but a worn mattress. I was beginning to think that Ethan had gotten his idea for the room from a prison movie.

"It's a bit small, I know." Ethan said softly, sounding almost, but not quite, regretful. "But you'll only be needing it for sleep, and...other things."

His hand slid down my side and squeezed my hip suggestively.

_Oh god, please no._

Surely he wasn't going to do _that_. But then, it made such terrible sense; him stealing a young woman who had no one (since he'd killed my father and my mother was long since out of the picture with Phil). I was the perfect victim for him and all of his sadistic pleasure.

"_Any_way, my room's across the hall from yours and that's it; home sweet home."

"I..." I blinked back tears and managed a twisted smile. "I really need to use the loo."

Ethan chuckled. "Sure thing, sweetie. Let me just untie these..." he turned me around and began to loosen the knots binding my wrists together. "Sorry about that. It's just precaution you know? So you wouldn't run off on me."

I was careful not to seem either too calm or too jittery as he guided me back to the bathroom. He couldn't suspect anything.

"I understand." I murmured.

And I did. Ethan was just sane enough to realize that I was likely to struggle and attempt escape if he didn't tie my hands. Fortunately, he was twisted enough to assume that once he had me in his home, I wouldn't try and get away. That was my only chance.

So the moment I had the bathroom door shut and locked securely behind me, I headed straight for the window. I clambered as quietly and quickly as I could onto the sink and opened the window as wide as I could.

It was a tight squeeze, but I managed to fit myself through the narrow space and pitched forward out onto the ground outside. Without missing a beat, I scrambled to my feet and bolted blindly into the night, doing my best not to stumble or cry. I had to get away and tears would make that harder.

"_Krystal_!"

I whimpered out a curse and tried to run faster, only to trip over an invisible tree root. My ankle twisted out beneath me and I gasped in pain as I fell to my knees onto the ground.

_No, no, no, no..._

I stood up shakily and tried again to run even as my ankle screamed in agony at the abuse I was inflicting upon it.

The sounds of heavy panting came up behind me and I nearly cried out in fear as I realized that Ethan was catching up to me fast. I stumbled onward desperately, hoping against hope that somehow I could get away.

No such luck.

There was a vicious shove to the middle of my back and I buckled forwards with a shocked cry.

"How dare you, how _dare you_?" Ethan sounded furious as he approached my collapsed form. "I bring you with me to _my_ home, I offer you access to _my_ bathroom and this is how you repay me? You little _bitch_."

Without warning, he yanked me sharply to my feet by my hair only to knock me back to the ground with a vicious punch to the face. I hit the ground hard and stayed there, too stunned and disorientated to move.

"Please." I whimpered from where I lay. "Just let me go home."

"So you can do what? Go back to that other _boy_?" Ethan sneered, his tanned features twisting into an ugly expression. "Edward _left you _Krystal, I know he did, I _saw_; and so did your mother. Your father is dead; I'm all you have left."

I sobbed, unable to speak. He was right in the sense that I was alone, but how, _how_ did he think that I would want to be with _him_?

"Stop that." He snapped, yanking me back to my feet. "I don't want to listen to that crap so just shut the hell up."

I did my best to obey him, terrified he'd hit me again if I didn't. My throat worked manically to control the sobs threatening to burst out and I blinked back more tears.

"That's better," he seemed to be calming down, the angry storm stilling in his cold blue eyes. "Let's go back now. But I'm afraid I'll have to tie you up Krystal; you've proven to be untrustworthy and I can't risk you trying to leave me again."

_No..._

Too scared of another beating to risk attempting escape again, I had no choice but to allow Ethan to pull me back to my prison.

_Weak_, A voice spit in the back of my mind. _It's no wonder Edward left. You're too much of a coward to even defend yourself from a psychopath when he's going to hurt you either way. You're so pathetic._

I shut my eyes tightly and tried to block it out, knowing all the while that the voice was right. Edward was right to leave such a pathetic mess behind. But I couldn't help but wish he would show up and rescue me like he had with James.

"What are you thinking about Krystal?" Ethan's voice had readapted the dark edge to it and I knew I was about to be in for it.

I swallowed thickly. "I'm thinking that I'm sorry I escaped and that I won't do it again."

"You're lying." He hissed. "I've seen that look on your face before; you're thinking about _Edward_. You're hoping he'll come for you. Well he won't, you hear me? He _won't_. You're mine now," he growled possessively. "All mine."

I barely registered the dark threat in his words until he began to pull roughly at my clothes. Panicked and horrified I lurched away from him. My skin crawled from the touch of his filthy hands and I backed away further.

The back of his hand connected violently with my cheek and I fell sideways, banging my head against the wall. My ears were ringing as I tried blindly to get back on my feet.

"I've getting tired of your little _antics_ Krystal. It's time you realized who you belong to."

"No." I moaned. "Don't touch me, _no_!"

I tried to kick out at him only to have him pounce and pin me to the floor, straddling my waist. He punched me three times in consecutive in the face and I was left limp and dazed, the world spinning before my eyes. But still I fought, _needing_ to. Because no one but Edward would ever have the permission to take that part of me. And even if he didn't want me anymore, I would still save it for him. I had to keep fighting.

So I bit and kicked and scratched and slapped, screaming all the while.

Ethan's next punch landed in my throat and I gasped brokenly, unable to breathe. And with the lack of air came the lack of strength to fight back.

Ethan succeeded in ripping off the rest of my clothes, dragging me into the room with the locked door and throwing me onto the mattress before I had the energy once more to keep fighting.

My voice had long since depleted from screaming so loud so I struggled in terrorized silence.

The next punch landed in my solar plexus, effectively winding me. Ethan pinned my arms above my head with one hand around my wrists and used the other to squeeze my throat violently while a knee forced my legs apart.

"_Please_." I managed to choke, tears sliding down my cheeks.

He didn't listen, except to laugh coldly as he stole from me what he wanted.

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><p>One thing was clear; Edward was definitely not coming back. And I no longer wanted him to.<p>

If there was one thing that had kept me even in the playing field with Edward, it was the fact that we were both pure and untouched. I couldn't stand to have him return only to find out how dirty I was and leave once again.

I was alone with what could be no one else but the devil and it was going to stay that way until the devil finally killed me.

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><p><strong>AN: I know it's awful, but this is not a nice story. However, it_ does_ have a happy ending, it's just the getting there that's the hard part. Until next time, thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Still pretty morbid, and will be for a while. I hope you readers out there can stick with me until I stop torturing SM's poor characters. Anyway, here's your update, enjoy, and thank you to those who took the time to send a review. They really give me the motivation to keep writing; I love reading what you all think.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>

Once in class a few years back, I had participated in a study on a condition called Stockholm syndrome. To put it simply, Stockholm syndrome was a brain condition where the victim of a kidnapping came to trust and even love the person who had taken them away from their home.

According to the research I'd found, it was a defence mechanism activated in the victim's brain, intended to keep them protected from further harm. If the victim acted malleable and pleasant to their kidnapper, there was less likelihood for the person to hurt them. It almost seemed to make sense, why bother hurting someone when they started to go out of their way to make you happy? But that would mean the attacker had some sanity, to think that way.

I had given that some serious thought in the time that I'd been trapped with Ethan – it might be months, might be years, it felt like forever – I came to the logical conclusion that my brain did not have any form of self preservation. I did not have Stockholm syndrome, and I could not think of anything else to help myself avoid Ethan's violence. Obviously my subconscious, or whatever it was that caused Stockholm syndrome and other forms of preservation instinct, was broken. I'd always suspected something was wrong with me; I just hadn't known it would be something so _needed_ in the horror that was my life.

Unless of course, the fault lay with Ethan. He wasn't the type of kidnapper that looked for someone to please him without having to torture them into doing it. He was the type of kidnapper who stole a person so he could hurt them whenever he felt the urge to, because he _enjoyed _causing pain. And with me, his urge to do that occurred very often.

I wished someone could voluntarily shut off their mind for hours at a time; or even permanently, I wasn't about to be fussy. It would be so very wonderful to just _stop_ with feeling the heart wrenching terror that coursed into me whenever Ethan came into my cell to either use my body for his sexual pleasure, or to beat to a pulp. I wanted so badly to simply forget all about the aching hunger that haunted my body from severe lack of food; Ethan deigned to feed me only when he remembered and it was only ever scraps of his leftovers. He had the 'kindness' to allow me half a glass of water every second day or so. Above everything else I would love to be able to forget the life I had had before Ethan, because at least then, my situation wouldn't seem so horrifying, as I wouldn't have anything to compare it to. Ignorance was bliss, as they would say. I believed it.

Unfortunately, one of Ethan's favourite things to do in the past few days was to remind me about _him_ and how he can't have cared about me very much at all if he had allowed Ethan to take me away so easily; he hadn't bothered even to stick around and make sure I was okay. Ethan seemed especially to enjoy telling me that I was _lucky_ to have a man such as himself _interested_ in keeping me around, even if it was just to – as he put it – screw or use as an output for his seemingly endless anger.

I was just a toy, Ethan would tell me, useless for everything except to serve as a bed warmer and punching bag.

As more time went by, his words became steadily more believable. After all, if I was worth more than that to someone, surely that someone would have found and rescued me?

In the beginning days, Ethan had put on a facade of kindness. He would feed and bathe me regularly and allow me clothing; outer garments only as he liked to have – again in his words – 'easy access' which was inhibited by underwear. He constantly spoke to me in a voice that oozed sickly sweetness, as though he thought we were newlyweds happily in love. All of that changed when I tried to escape again, unable to cope with it anymore. Even if I had nowhere to run to, I couldn't bear to remain with the man who had torn my innocence away from me.

Ethan had been out of his mind with fury. He had tracked me down with rapid and terrifying efficiently, kicked me to the ground and kept kicking until I stopped fighting. Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me back to the locked room where he proceeded to strip me of the few clothes I had. I had been terrified that he'd force himself on me, but instead he went back to beating me savagely until I slipped gratefully into unconsciousness.

From then on I was tied to the bed posts over the mattress by my wrists. Ethan force fed me by wrenching open my jaw if I ever tried to resist him, and poured water down my throat until I either choked on it or swallowed. He never gave me back my clothes, which struck as a humiliating punishment as well as the terrible knowledge that I was completely vulnerable to Ethan's advances.

Enough time had gone past that I was so emaciated and weak, I couldn't possibly escape even if I was free of the ropes and had the strength of heart to try it again after the results of my past failed attempts. My muscles had wasted away to the point that even the mere lifting of an arm exhausted me into nearly fainting. I tried to avoid ever looking down at my body. I couldn't stand to see my bones protruding under stretched and yellowed flesh. It reminded me sickeningly of a corpse, rotting away in a coffin.

To distract myself from looking at my dying body, I would lie still and stare at the ceiling, trying to imagine what the sky looked like above it. My favourite days were the rainy ones; the gentle thumps of a million falling droplets on the roof worked to soothe me somehow. Ethan loathed wet days, it made his work harder. Half of me took vindictive pleasure in Ethan's frustration. He deserved every form of unhappiness that came his way, regardless of how insignificant it seemed to anyone else.

Unfortunately, the rainy days tended to be the ones where Ethan took his temper out on me. While he had yet – surprisingly – to break any bones, he had knocked me out several times, and more than once ripped out chunks of my hair.

Still, rainy days were preferable to any other; Ethan never forced me on those days, preferring to use his fists. It was the sunny weather that brought _that_. He was usually in a good mood, and liked to _celebrate_.

I couldn't fight him anymore; weak as I was. And he almost always held a hand to my throat to stop me from crying out, unless of course he was in the mood for _listening_, then he worked extra hard to get a 'reaction'.

I tried not to think about those days.

"Oh _Krystal_..."

Unfortunately that was impossible when it _was_ one of those days.

My heart immediately began to race and my breath altered into shallow gasps as I began to hyperventilate. Regardless of how many times that it happened; I still felt and reacted in the same way; absolutely terrified and sickened out of my mind. I felt like a caged animal waiting to be traumatised and unable to do anything to prevent any of it.

I heard the click of the door being unlocked and I shrank back into my soiled bed the best that I could. I hoped that Ethan was just coming to clean the mattress because the smell was beginning to infest through the house.

The bitter side of me sneered and whispered that I was a fool to hope.

_Hope gets us nowhere, you should know that by now._

I closed my eyes, ignoring the thought. I had to hope, if I didn't; all I'd have left was despair, and I couldn't tolerate that.

_You can't tolerate anything, the pathetic weakling that you are._

"Are you sleeping my darling?"

The sickening croon was back; but there was an underlining of vicious intent; Ethan was angry.

"I despise it when you sleep."

Out of nowhere, his fist wrapped in my hair and yanked, drawing a pained gasp from my lips. My eyes flew open and I stared up at his infuriated expression, waiting helplessly.

"Has anyone told you that you sleep talk?" His eyes were narrowed into malicious blue slits as he stared at me, waiting for a response.

It wasn't a rhetorical question then.

"I..." My voice was raspy, unused for anything bar screaming. I cleared my throat, swallowed; tried again. "I used to sleep talk."

"You still do." He growled. "In fact, I heard you sleep talking just last night." His tone positively dripped rage and the look on his face promised violence.

What could I have possibly said that would make him so murderously angry? Then it hit me.

_Oh no...No._

"I'm sorry," I started, trying to soothe him before he attacked.

"_Edward!"_ Ethan roared, striking me hard across the face, silencing my pathetic attempt at an apology.

I cowered silently and stared up at him, waiting for more hitting or shouting or just both.

"Tell me why Krystal; _why _are you still whispering that _boy's _name when you live with me, _me_?" He leant closer to me, breathing putrid air into my face. "Am I not man enough? Is that why you still see someone else in your dreams?" He shook me once. "_Answer me_!"

"Please," I whimpered. "I don't mean to...I don't know why I still dream about him. I swear!"

"_Liar_." He hissed. "You want him to come for you, well listen here _Krystal_. He's not going to, _no one_ is. I have you to myself and that's the way it's staying! You're _mine_. I have told you time and time again, you belong to me, and _me_ alone! I'll make you forget Edward, if it's the last thing I do." His face twisted into a cruel smirk. "Starting tonight."

He pinned me with a stranglehold over my throat and held me there with one hand, using the other to divest himself of his pants.

The familiar disgust and helpless terror roiled up to claim me as I lay there in a pathetic heap, unable to even voice a protest little own a struggle as Ethan did to me as his twisted mind wanted.

I tried to shut myself down; to hide somehow in my mind where what Ethan did with my body wouldn't hurt so badly. It didn't work. I still felt every touch, I still heard every word. And with each horror, bits of Isabella Swan began to break away and vanish.

If Bella hadn't been so pathetically weak, Edward wouldn't have been in the picture in the first place, because she would have seen him for the selfish creature that he was. She wouldn't have fallen into the despondent place after he grew bored and abandoned her.

It all came back to Edward. Meeting him had been the beginning of my downfall. If I hadn't met Edward, Ethan would never have taken an interest in me; he wouldn't have been so wildly jealous of Edward as to wait for him to leave before murdering my father and stealing me away.

So I did as Ethan said, I forgot about Edward. And I added to that memory loss, my personality and self, leaving behind the shell that went by the name of Krystal; property of Ethan Lane.

If I was going to be in eternal suffering, I would prefer it was without the people who had caused it.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm so sorry guys; I really meant to update earlier, I know I promised not to make anyone wait more than a month. But those who remember starting a new job at full time will understand how tired I've been. I work, I come home, I rest. And on the days I don't work, my social life begs me to pay attention to it. The past month flew by, so, sorry. But here's the next update, I hope it's worth the wait.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3<strong>

E-POV

My pocket vibrated as my phone continued to ring defiantly, uncaring that I had no desire to answer it.

I already knew it was one of my family members calling; begging me to return to them in Denali – _home_. That term was a curse to me; it did nothing but curl my lip in disgust. I had no home, not anymore, not ever again.

Bella had been the only home I'd ever had and I left her behind.

It had been the right decision, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Someone as pure and good as my Bella had no place in the dark and soulless world I lived in.

Unfortunately, that logic had done nothing to ease the sheer agony brought on by my leaving her. My perfect vampire memory continued to torment me frequently with the image of her beautiful face stricken with agony as I lied; breaking her heart – and mine.

Sometimes I wondered what hurt more, that I lied to break her heart, or that she believed me so quickly. I had thought that I would have to speak falsely for _hours_ before she believed me, instead it took one word, _one_ _word_ to break her faith in my love for her. I was appalled at how little trust she had in me to have been convinced of my apathy so easily.

I had wanted to growl at her, chasten her for her disbelief; instead I had to walk away, to leave her in that cold, dark forest and listen to the sounds of her weeping that still echoed in my memory so many months later.

But Bella deserved a normal, human life, and that couldn't happen with me in it. As the saying went; 'if you love them, let them go'. And I loved Bella, more than I loved my own happiness.

It had been over a year that that happiness had been destroyed. Bella's nineteenth birthday had passed two months ago and I had spent it lamenting over my loss of such a beautiful woman. Returning to the lonely life that I'd been living for so many decades was made that much harder after knowing what it was to share my world with the closest creature to ever be my mate.

I often tortured myself with wondering if she had found someone new. Perhaps it would be the overly persistent boy Michael Newton. Immediately my heart clenched with jealousy. Yes, I wanted Bella to move on to marry and have a family, but the thought of her with another man was repellent to me. The idea of another man holding her, kissing her, _loving_ her; it made me want to break something, preferably someone male.

She was and always would be the love of my life. If she were a vampire...I flinched and shook my head. I had no right to think of stealing away Bella's soul, and yet the fantasy remained. If Bella were a vampire, we could be happy until time ran out...never to be alone again.

I sighed heavily, turning away from such bittersweet thoughts. I truly was a masochist, tormenting myself with a dream that could never be. I welcomed the pain, taking it as penance for the anguish Bella went through because of me.

My phone rang again, as persistent as only Alice could be. I growled low in my throat and pulled the offending object out of my pocket. Narrowly resisting the powerful urge to throw the phone against a tree I flipped it open.

"_What_ Alice?" I snarled. "This better be important."

"Always so polite and cordial, aren't we?" She somehow managed to sound both sarcastic and chipper at the same time.

"I can easily hang up on you." I warned in a low voice. "Get to the point, Alice, and quickly."

"Esme misses you."

I winced and shut my eyes. Of course. I should have expected that from my smallest sister, she'd always been the master manipulator, ruthless as could be when needed. And Esme's desire to have her family close and her pain when it wasn't so was a weakness Alice frequently used against me. Unfortunately the consistency of that guilt card being played didn't weaken the pang I felt at hurting my surrogate mother.

"It wasn't that long ago that I visited."

I could hear the incredulity and anger, even if I couldn't see it. "Edward it's been _three months_."

I shut my eyes. "Alice.."

"Don't _Alice_ me Edward!" She snapped. "Do you have any idea what your sullen little tantrum is doing to us? It's not just Esme that misses you."

I groaned, guilt tearing through me against my will. "I don't want to come back, I _can't_. It hurts." I whispered.

Alice's tone softened. "I know. But please, we need you."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? You're our _family_. I know you're having a hard time, but Ed, that's not _our _fault."

I imagined the words she didn't say, '_this is because of _you_._'

"I know it isn't your fault, I just _can't_." I pleaded.

"Just for one day. We're going hunting in the Denali woods. Edward _please_, for Esme."

I sighed heavily, swayed regardless of how reluctant I was to return. I didn't like to cause my family any more pain than necessary.

"One day."

She squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I sneered. "Don't act like you didn't already know I'd come."

The excitement drained from Alice's voice and a vulnerability I hadn't heard in years crept into her tone. "I didn't know." Her tone dropped to a whisper. "Edward, you're slipping away from us. I called because I keep seeing you leaving and not coming back."

I blinked. I'd _considered_ that idea; but I never thought I'd go through with it. Was I truly so selfish that I'd abandon my family indefinitely because of my own pain? It frightened me that I didn't know the answer.

"I'll see you in an hour." I offered quietly, unable to reassure her properly without lying.

She hung up without another word and I dropped my head, more ashamed than ever before.

Even with the shame drowning me, there was still room for self pity. Esme and Carlisle, Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper, they all had _each other._ And every time I was with them, I was reminded once again that I was without the love of my life. Through my own choices of course, but that did nothing to prevent the agony of being alone surrounded by happy couples.

Of course, they tried to avoid any physical closeness to one another when I visited in an attempt to ease my discomfort; unfortunately it just made the longing in their thoughts louder which in turn tormented me more. There was no way to escape it...except to make Alice's vision true.

I wasn't going to that however; at least, not yet. If I _was_ going to be a coward, I would at least give my family the chance to say goodbye.

That decided, I began the journey back to my family, stopping for a quick hunt so Esme wouldn't get too concerned over my feeding, or lack there of.

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><p>The moment I found the woods, somewhere in Denali, where my family had chosen to hunted I was immediately accosted by their thoughts.<p>

It had been so long that I had been in contact with sentient beings that the rapid thought process of vampires was overwhelming.

I had to take a moment to separate each family member's mind from my own so that I wouldn't be driven insane.

Alice's thoughts were the loudest; she had seen my arrival and was both greeting me jovially in her mind and watching a vision to see how long I was staying. I was surprised to see I was going to remain for longer than I had originally and so firmly stated. Apparently something was going to change my mind.

"_Edward!_"

Esme was of course the first to arrive and embrace me tightly.

_My son_, her mind was full of joy and sadness. "I have missed you." She touched my face. _You look so starved. _

Even after my hunt before. I closed my eyes in grief. She meant more than simply my body's need for sustenance. "I'm sorry, mum."

"Just stay a little longer this time." She pleaded gently.

I said nothing. I would not make any promises that I might not be able to keep. False hope was crueler than silence.

Esme seemed to accept that, even if more sadness crept into her face.

Carlisle was next to stand before me, his ageless face showed more compassion than I could bear.

He pulled me into a hug of his own. "It's good to see you Edward." _Though_ _I wish you took more care of yourself. _

I could see my rumpled clothing and haggard appearance in his mind and fought against a wince. Perhaps it would do to at least get a change of clothes.

"Hey little bro!" Emmett was there, cheery as usual. _I won't ask how you are, because you look like crap._

I smirked. I could always appreciate Emmett's no-nonsense attitude. He had never been the type to 'beat around the bush'.

"So are you staying long this time?"

I hesitated, sparing a short glance at Alice who didn't bother to hide her hopeful expression. "I don't know."

Rosalie scoffed softly. _Must we continue to suffer your dramatics? _

I scowled and she just rolled her eyes, sneering.

_I don't see why we have to go through all this because you and the human aren't _together_ anymore._

I growled low in my throat but still said nothing. She was right, but that didn't make me any less angry.

"Rosalie, whatever you're thinking, shut up." Alice was glaring at her sister. "He's only just arrived; go eat a bear or something if you can't be supportive."

The blonde sniffed and backed off, loudly thinking that everyone else had the same opinion she did, they just didn't have the nerve to admit it.

That settled, Alice bounded forwards and leapt on me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. "I know I saw it coming, but I'm still really, _really_ glad you came." She squeezed me again and kissed my cheek. _I don't want you to leave. _She thought sadly. _You're our family, Edward_.

I sighed and hugged her back, unable to do more to ease her grief.

Grief that was echoed more strongly than ever in the last family member I had left to greet.

I looked up slowly and released Alice who stepped away, aware of the tension that had suddenly spiked up in the air around us.

Jasper approached slowly, his face solemn and emotionless while his thoughts raged with despair and guilt, still blaming himself for what happened at Bella's eighteenth birthday.

"Jasper." I managed weakly, not sure what to say.

I still despised that it was my own brother who attacked my love, but I did not blame him. The bloodlust had been in all of us bar my father that day, and Jasper had felt it all plus his own. I could not justifiably place fault with him for something anyone of us would have done had we been in his place.

_Forgive me_. He begged internally, though I was sure he hadn't meant to if his expression was anything to go by.

"I have." I said softly. "I just can't forget."

He nodded stiffly. It went against his nature to show very much emotion to anyone except Alice. Even then, he was sometimes reserved. But he couldn't hide the gratitude in his thoughts.

Alice looked between us with slightly narrowed eyes before beaming. "That done with, let's – " She stopped, her eyes glazing over as a vision filled her head.

I froze for a moment, too horrified by what I was seeing to react for a short moment before I burst into action.

"_No_!" I roared.

It wouldn't happen, it _couldn't_; I had to stop it.

I ran.

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><p><strong>This chapter is sort of a bridge in the story, meaning that it gets action packed from the next chapter onwards. Hope you enjoyed. <strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys...remember me? Yeah so, I think I made a huge mistake when I said no update would take longer than a month, and I am really sorry about that. Especially since the last chapter was kind of a cliffhanger...just a little bit. I guess it's harder to be consistent with writing when working full time, balancing a social life and attempting to do more than sit on the computer in my spare time.**

**I would love to give you some clue as to when the next up, but unfortunately, I haven't even started working on it. Hopefully it will come sooner than this chapter did though. ****So I'll just do my best to update whenever I can. The only promise I can make and keep is not abandoning this story. ****I hope that's enough for you'll.**

**Anyway, thank you to those who took the time to leave a review. I appreciate it. Now - the awaited new chapter:**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<strong>

B-POV

It was raining again, which was unfortunate. Because I had discovered through consistency that with rain came more beatings from Ethan.

I didn't know much more than that. The pain of my existence had erased a lot from my mind, but I was still left with the ability to be able to tell when more agony was coming.

So I knew that the gentle pitter patter on the roof would bring in an enraged Ethan who opted to hurt me because he couldn't do his job in the wet. Why exactly that was my fault, I wasn't entirely certain; all I knew was that Ethan blamed me so that meant that it must be true.

It made some sense, considering I enjoyed the rain. Perhaps I somehow caused the weather change because of how I felt about it.

I sighed and shifted weakly, once again trying to find a more comfortable position. It was futile effort of course; my body was so thin and wasted that any way I lay caused pain as my bones ground and rubbed against themselves.

Ethan had removed the rope bindings from my wrists several months ago upon realizing that I was too weak to even crawl out of bed never mind attempt escape.

Funnily enough, the thought of running hadn't even crossed my mind, even in fantasy. I had nowhere to go, no one to run to, nothing to live for and no reason to think that life would be any easier for me away from Ethan. Besides it made no sense at all to try and flee when I would only fail anyway. I was resigned to my fate of endless torture until I died.

The thought of torture caused me immediately to look at the red, thick and ropy scars on my wrists, left behind by the binds that had rubbed away the flesh over the many months that I'd been tied. They were the most prominent evidence of the damage Ethan had inflicted on me and I found them oddly fascinating. Ugly beyond words, but fascinating all the same.

The other scars and marks on my body were smaller and much paler in colour, from when he'd used his belt or teeth. He'd yet to break anything, though my stomach often turned violent shades of heavy black and blue when he punched at my ribs. Perhaps I was merely lucky that Ethan hadn't used enough force to mortally wound me, but I suspected he didn't want me dead; as then he'd have to find someone else to make those 'lovely sounds' for him as he often put it. So he was careful, even when he was in a spitting rage, not to hit me too hard.

"_Krystal!_"

I sighed wistfully, as his furious voice broke into my morbid thoughts. Soon he would come crashing into my room, perhaps drunk and begin his torrent of verbal and physical abuse.

Just as predicted, the door smashed violently against the wall and Ethan came stumbling in. The stench of liquor was probably enough to get _me_ intoxicated if I inhaled enough and I prepared for the worst. Because it was always worse when he'd been drinking.

A shiver rolled its way down my back and my fists shivered and clenched of their own accord. Perhaps he was drunk enough to the point where he no longer cared how hard he struck out at me. Perhaps he would kill me. It was strange I guess; I wasn't sure if I was feeling pleased or scared about that.

And then I didn't have time to think more about it because Ethan was on me, one hand around my throat and the other lashing out at me repeatedly around the face.

"_Why is it raining?_" He roared, slapping me hard and causing my head to jerk to the side, as far as it could when I was being held in an immovable grasp around the neck anyway.

I might have whimpered around the choke hold he had on my throat, I wasn't sure. But I did manage a small apology before he ripped me off the bed by my hair and threw me on the floor.

The impact hurt horribly, but I didn't hear anything within me snap so I felt it prudent to curl into a pathetic ball as Ethan began to kick.

Each blow was agony, but I could sense that they could have been harder. Ethan was still managing enough control to hold back some, then. I almost felt disappointment. Apparently there was a part of me that wanted to die after all.

"ANSWER ME!"

Again with the fist in my hair, he used it to yank me up so he could see my face.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered again, weakly. "I'm sorry I made it rain."

His face twisted malevolently. "No you're not." He hissed, rage gleaming in his ice blue eyes. "But you will be."

Terror and revulsion filled me, I knew that look.

I'd hoped that I'd only be beaten, but it didn't look as though I'd get my wish.

Ethan grabbed my upper arm in a vice grip that had his fingers overlapping themselves and dragged me up and onto the mattress before he crawled on top of me.

Habit caused him to grab both my wrists and pin them above my head in my hand while the other proceeded to –

I choked and jerked my head, wanting to vomit.

"Shut up, you little whore." He growled harshly. "You're mine, _mine_."

He covered my unresponsive mouth with his own and bit my lip, drawing blood immediately.

I tried to retreat into my mind as his free hand continued to grope me crudely. I couldn't bear the helpless terror and pain that roiled through me every time Ethan forced himself on me. It was worse than a thousand beatings and there was no way to distance my mind from it the way I could from his fists. Horror consumed me as Ethan's panting increased in my ear while he whispered sickening things.

The door crashed loudly against the door and flew off the hinges, splintering against the wall and falling to the floor with a rumble. Ethan swore loudly and leapt off me, turning to face the deafening sound.

I looked as well and was sure that I'd lost consciousness during Ethan's beating and had fallen into a strange dream.

There was a man standing in the open door way; a man that was too beautiful to be real and with an expression of pure unadulterated rage that was angrier than any expression I'd ever seen on Ethan's face. With messy red hair and black eyes full of hate, the new man was the single most terrifying presence I had ever come across.

My fear increased. Ethan was bad enough in his anger, but the stranger, who was strong enough to tear a door off its hinges would cause more pain than Ethan ever had. And he seemed capable of the same sadism Ethan had. Suffering at the visitor's hands would be so much worse.

"What the _fuck_?" Ethan yelled.

A mistake.

The beautiful man made a snarling sound that rumbled deep in his chest before emerging out his throat into a menacing growl that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

Then he _disappeared_, reappearing a second later in front of Ethan who only had time to gape before he was thrown across the room into the kitchen. I heard the sound of glass shattering and assumed he'd hit the sink and knocked some plates off.

I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that the stranger had managed to _pick up_ Ethan in one hand and _throw_ him with the ease of someone tossing a pebble when Ethan tried crawling across the floor for an escape.

His face had sobered remarkably and he looked as terrified as he should; apparently being manhandled so violently was akin to cold water being dumped over you in terms of sobering up. He had the panicked eyes of a trapped animal trying desperately to find freedom.

Unfortunately for Ethan, the man was behind him in one instant and hauling him up and against the wall by his throat in the next.

I watched with a distant sort of enthralment as Ethan's bugged out of his head as the hand around his throat tightened. I wondered if my own eyes did that when Ethan strangled me.

"Please," Ethan choked out, "help me."

I blinked, stunned. That he would ask for help was astonishing. Simply because he _must_ know that help would not come, it never would. I never bothered to ask for mercy, knowing Ethan was more likely to hurt me _more_ than grant me even an ounce.

I could tell the same went for the man pinning Ethan to the wall. Mercy didn't exist in a man's world. It was as simple as that.

Nevertheless, I knew how Ethan felt, that desperate terror and hope that _something_ would save him. I knew that feeling intimately and it was horrifying and enlightening in the same moment.

The empathy was abrupt and crushing; I couldn't stand to see the violence in front of me. It was enough that _I_ suffered; I didn't want anyone else to. Even if I hated and feared the person suffering.

Without realizing it, a soft whimper slipped from my mouth and I drew back from the scene before me, wishing that it would stop, or that I could disappear somewhere so I wouldn't have to watch anymore.

The stranger's head whipped towards me and I was faced with meeting his black angry eyes and fierce expression. Straight out of hell, he had to be a demon of some sort. He was a demon who looked murderous and he was looking at _me_.

I drew back further, knowing that pain was coming and having no way to escape it. So I did what I always did.

I waited.

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><p><strong>AN: Gee...any ideas for who the 'demon' is? And tell me, was the chapter worth waiting for? **


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